A Will and a Way

things, I leave the sterling silver mirror purported to have been owned by Marie Antoinette. To my grand-nephew, Hank, I leave the sum of 3528. Enough, I believe, for a lifetime supply of wheat germ.”
    The grumbles that had begun with the first bequest continued and grew. Anger hovered on the edge of outrage. Jolley would have liked nothing better. Pandora made the mistake of glancing over at Michael. He didn’t seem so distant anddetached now, but full of admiration. When their gazes met, the giggle she’d been holding back spilled out. It earned her several glares.
    Carlson rose, giving new meaning to the phrase controlled outrage. “Mr. Fitzhugh, my father’s will is nothing more than a mockery. It’s quite obvious that he wasn’t in his right mind when he made it, nor do I have any doubt that a court will overturn it.”
    “Mr. McVie.” Again Fitzhugh cleared his throat. The sun began to push its way through the clouds but no one seemed to notice. “I understand perfectly your sentiments in this matter. However, my client was perfectly well and lucid when this will was drawn. He may have worded it against my advice, but it is legal and binding. You are, of course, free to consult with your own counsel. Meanwhile, there’s more to be read.”
    “Hogwash.” Monroe puffed on his cigar and glared at everyone. “Hogwash,” he repeated while Patience patted his arm and chirped ineffectually.
    “Uncle Jolley liked hogwash,” Pandora said as she balled her tissue. She was ready to face them down, almost hoped she’d have to. It would take her mind off her grief. “If he wanted to leave his money to the Society for the Prevention of Stupidity, it was his right.”
    “Easily said, my dear.” Biff polished his nails on his lapel. The gold band of his watch caught a bit of the sun and gleamed. “Perhaps the old lunatic left you a ball of twine so you can string more beads.”
    “You haven’t got the matches yet, old boy.” Michael spokelazily from his corner, but every eye turned his way. “Careful what you light.”
    “Let him read, why don’t you?” Ginger piped up, quite pleased with her bequest. Marie Antoinette, she mused. Just imagine.
    “The last two bequests are joint,” Fitzhugh began before there could be another interruption. “And, a bit unorthodox.”
    “The entire document’s unorthodox,” Carlson tossed out, then harrumphed. Several heads nodded in agreement.
    Pandora remembered why she always avoided family gatherings. They bored her to death. Quite deliberately, she waved a hand in front of her mouth and yawned. “Could we have the rest, Mr. Fitzhugh, before my family embarrasses themselves any further?”
    She thought, but couldn’t be sure, that she saw a quick light of approval in the fusty attorney’s eyes. “Mr. McVie wrote this portion in his own words.” He paused a moment, either for effect or courage. “To Pandora McVie and Michael Donahue,” Fitzhugh read. “The two members of my family who have given me the most pleasure with their outlook on life, their enjoyment of an old man and old jokes, I leave the rest of my estate, in entirety, all accounts, all business interests, all stocks, bonds and trusts, all real and personal property, with all affection. Share and share alike.”
    Pandora didn’t hear the half-dozen objections that sprang out. She rose, stunned and infuriated. “I can’t take his money.” Towering over the family who sat around her, she strode straight up to Fitzhugh. The lawyer, who’d anticipated attacks fromother areas, braced for the unexpected. “I wouldn’t know what to do with it. It’d just clutter up my life.” She waved a hand at the papers on the desk as if they were a minor annoyance. “He should’ve asked me first.”
    “Miss McVie…”
    Before the lawyer could speak again, she whirled on Michael. “You can have it all. You’d know what to do with it, after all. Buy a hotel in New York, a condo in L.A., a club in Chicago and a plane to fly you back and forth, I don’t care.”
    Deadly calm, Michael slipped his hands in his pockets. “I appreciate the offer, cousin. Before you pull the trigger, why don’t we wait until Mr. Fitzhugh finishes before you embarrass yourself any further?”
    She stared at him a moment, nearly nose to nose with him in heels. Then, because she’d been taught to do so at an early age, she took a deep breath and waited for her temper to ebb. “I don’t want his